A reaching tree with swaying arms
That gently cradles moonlight,
The curve of each embracing limb
Seems to whisper calm reflection.

The gathering shades
of night’s blind substance
Tremble nearer in velvet hush
To brush against that moonlight
And warm their wandering hearts.

The ground below seems not to care
But softens its dark folds
To comfort she who hides beneath
In wordless sympathy.

The moon above shines over all
And casts out pale connection
That binds these travelers,
lost and fallen,
As time fades, forgotten.